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Jemma had been thinking about sex quite a lot. It was inappropriate, really, with everything that had been going on at SHIELD in recent weeks, but in her spare moments she often drifted off to wondering what Fitz might be like in bed. In all that time, however – all those daydreams, those stolen fantasies - never had she imagined that there would be so much laughter.
They didn’t know how much time they had while Mack prepped the quinjet, but it would never be enough, it couldn’t be, not until they had weeks on end where they were safe and the world wasn’t about to end. So they would make do with the time they’d been given.
Over ten years, she thought again, back arching as Fitz sucked heatedly just below her pulse point. I spent over ten bloody years not knowing it would be like this.
Hands halfway up his shirt, however, she realized that she didn’t have condoms. When she told him this, voice low and regretful, she didn’t expect his face to redden, or for him to stammer something about how he’d grabbed some on a whim while they were heading out on the mission hours and hours earlier. He hadn’t expected anything, he assured her, he would never, and he hadn’t thought he’d need them here of all places, but he’d thought, well, that maybe they might at some point soon, and he hadn’t wanted to forget, so he’d grabbed them and shoved them into his bag with the intention of spiriting them away to his room when they got back, and please, Jemma, there wasn’t –
She burst into laughter, shoulders shaking and eyes squeezed closed as she curled up towards him. His confusion practically rolled off of him in waves, unbuttoned shirt brushing against her stomach as he hovered above her, and it took everything she had in order to force herself to calm down enough that she could speak.
“You’re finally learning, Fitz,” she said at last, a tinge of a giggle still hanging around her voice. He peered down at her, brows adorably furrowed and lips enticingly swollen. “Preparation is key.”
His mouth twitched and she could tell he was fighting off either a laugh or an eyeroll. “Y’know, you’re not the only genius in the room. I’ve always been pretty damn good at preparation, too.”
Grinning, Jemma gave a hard shove against his left shoulder, flipping him over so that she was straddling him where he lay on the bed. “Weren’t prepared for that, though.”
Before he could answer, she reached back around to the zipper on her shirt and he stilled, swallowing. “I’ll get better with practice,” he muttered, eyes glued to her hands as she reached down and pulled her shirt up over her head.
To her disappointment, this didn’t galvanize him into motion as she would’ve hoped; instead, he just stared at her breasts. “Fitz.”
“Mmhmm.”
She giggled, quickly stifling the sound behind her fist. “I’m up here.”
“Sure.”
Another few seconds ticked by. “Fitz.”
At last, he blinked up at her. “What?”
“Touch me.” Something about those words brought him back from his breast-induced trance, and he shoved himself into a sitting position, close enough that their noses brushed and she could feel the heat of his breath on her skin.
“Where?”
She wrinkled her nose, not sure now if he was playing a game or serious. “What....”
“Tell me.” His eyes met hers, strikingly blue even in the darkness, and a bolt of arousal shot through her as she realized that he was definitely not joking. “Tell me where you want me to touch you.”
“Everywhere,” she whispered immediately, hands coming up to curl around the back of his head. “Anywhere, everywhere. I trust you, Fitz.”
He flinched, and then gave her a lopsided grin. “Sorry, your hands....” They both laughed this time, pressing their foreheads together. It subsided quickly, but when Jemma leaned forward for a kiss he pulled away. Expression almost thoughtful, he glanced down between them. One hand slid up from where it had rested on her leather-clad thigh, up along her hip, her ribs, until his thumb and forefinger brushed just against the underwire of her bra. “Here?” She nodded – perhaps a bit too eagerly, and she was far beyond caring at this point – but still he didn’t move. His eyes flicked up to hers again. “Do you want –”
“Yes, Fitz,” she interrupted, deciding abruptly that they could play this game next time, when they weren’t in a SHIELD-paid hotel room with their co-worker possibly only minutes away from returning. “Touch me there.”
Rather than wait for him to listen, this time she reached for his hand and placed it deliberately on her breast, pushing aside the fabric so that her flesh rested directly in his hand. A little gasp escaped her throat as she registered the sheer heat of his palm against her nipple, wondering at how her hands could be so cold still when his were warm enough to burn. The feeling surprised her; she’d known she wanted this, wanted him, but her body was reacting more strongly than she’d expected. Fitz inhaled, breathing deeply as he gently began to move his fingers against her. His fingers quickly found a stroke that made her lightheaded with arousal, circling the sensitive nub again and again, and she whimpered against his lips, so ready for them to have absolutely no space left between them at all.
Who needs space, indeed.
Jemma busied herself learning all the little places up along Fitz’s neck and underneath his jaw that made him squirm, so intent on her task and the feeling of his hand that she almost didn’t notice he was having trouble unfastening her bra with his other hand.
“Need help?” She couldn’t keep the laugh out of her voice, and he grumbled, stretching his head over her shoulder as best he could.
“No, blasted thing –”
“Cosmos again, is it?”
Fitz groaned as she lost the battle against another gigglefit, burying her face in the crook of his neck and shoulder. “At this point, yeah, probably is – one minute you’re begging me to touch you, now you can’t stop bloody laughing....”
“No, no, Fitz,” she said, cupping his chin in her hands and forcing him to meet her eyes. Drawing her bottom lip between her teeth, she gave him a shy smile, struck by how right this felt. She was half naked on a bed with her partially undressed best friend in the world, laughing every ten seconds because she simply couldn’t contain her happiness. There wasn’t any place she’d rather be. “It’s a good thing,” she finished eventually, reaching up to smooth her thumb over his bottom lip. “The laughing. It’s good.”
His eyes softened then, his expression fading into one she recognized, the one that made her stomach do this funny swooping thing she’d never experienced before in her life. But that look disappeared almost as quickly, morphing into something akin to mischievousness.
“Nope,” he quipped, and then he was flipping them around, another laugh bursting out of her in surprise. “It’s gonna be magnificent.” Jemma thought about rolling her eyes at his evident fondness for melodrama, but then his lips closed over her one bared nipple and she let out a strangled noise somewhere between a whimper and a moan. God, he was good at figuring out what she liked. Fortunately, he didn’t protest when she reached beneath herself to unfasten the bra with one hand; evidently he’d found better things to focus on.
She’d always known that there was more to Fitz than the socially awkward engineer, had seen it in his flashes of temper or flair for proving himself, but somehow she hadn’t thought it would translate to this. To these hands trailing over her skin and making her shiver with wanting, to these lips working slowly, achingly slowly over the dip between one breast to the next, to the tantalizing press of his thigh against the juncture of her legs.
He was Fitz, her Fitz, her sunrise, her home, and she couldn’t remember when she’d ever wanted anything this much.
After shucking off his own shirt and trousers at her insistence, he slid down the mattress to run one hand up the inside of her own leather-clad thigh. “These are nice. Never seen you wear ‘em before.”
“They’re May’s,” Jemma admitted, transfixed by the contrast of his broad hands against the black trousers. “But I could... buy a pair for myself. If you like them.”
Arching an eyebrow in interest, Fitz hummed, shifting to kneel between her legs. For a moment, she was distracted by the tent she could see in his boxers, excitement once again ringing through her veins. Rather than respond to her offer, he reached up to undo the top button of her trousers and gradually slide down the zipper, making her hips shift in her impatience to be touched that one place he’d been dutifully avoiding.
“If you don’t mind,” he started, tugging off her trousers and leaving her nearly naked before him, save for her blissfully skimpy black knickers, “I’d like to start here.” When she frowned down at him, unsure what “here” he meant, he hesitantly reached forward to tap two fingers against the triangle of cloth. “Okay?”
“Oh,” she breathed immediately, lifting her bum slightly to make the removal of her last piece of clothing just a little bit easier. “Yes, Fitz.”
An eager smile flashed across his face before he was able to school his expression back into the serious one he’d been wearing more-or-less since he’d walked into the hotel room a few minutes prior. (She suspected it was his interpretation of a sexy face, and someday she’d have to make it very clear that she found everything about him sexy and that putting on airs around her was no good.)
The second he’d disposed of her underwear, he paused, eyes raking up and down her nude form. She shifted, feeling somewhere between nervous and giddy and restless; although she had her own share of insecurities, she knew at least that her body's shape was sure to please him. The one source of nerves now was whether or not Fitz would be distracted by the scars left over from her most recent captivity by Hydra; it was the last thing she wanted to talk about now, when she was so relieved and excited to be here with him.
If Fitz noticed the pink, puckered flesh, he ignored it, a low sigh huffing out of him as he flitted his eyes between her breasts and the apex of her thighs for at least the third time. "You're..." he began quietly, trailing off with a quick head-shake and moving to make himself comfortable on his stomach between her legs. A twinge of nerves settled into Jemma’s stomach. His lips pressed butterfly kisses around her bellybutton, drawing her eyes back to his. “Talk to me, yeah?”
“Yeah,” she murmured, stroking her fingers along the side of his face, pleased that he'd somehow been able to anticipate her nerves. It seemed that their psychic link was as intact as ever. The affection she felt for him in that moment, with him lying stretched across her naked body, staring up at her through the dip of her breasts, was so fervent it felt like her fragile human frame couldn’t possibly contain it. To hell with the cosmos - there was no force in the universe that could contain what Jemma felt for Fitz.
Then his fingers made a gentle swipe up through her labia, just barely catching the end of her clit, and she gasped, setting her teeth into her bottom lip again to keep the sound in check. Her eyes had snapped shut at his movement, and it was a few seconds before Fitz tried again, making her hips tilt forward to seek even firmer, more rhythmic contact.
“Christ,” he muttered, angling her legs further apart, “you’re so....”
“I want you.” She blinked her eyes open, a blush rising to her cheeks; she wasn’t sure she’d ever been quite that straightforward with him before.
“I want you, too,” Fitz replied, voice soft, and when he shifted around again she was hoping he’d gone for the condoms because it was about bloody time they both get what they deserved. Instead, he parted her labia with the two forefingers of one hand and licked slowly over her clit, and hell if her vision didn’t white out for a few seconds. Her back arched, his other arm keeping her hips from bucking forward, and when she only wiggled a little in response Fitz kept going. This wasn’t something he’d done before – she could tell by the way he kept glancing up for her reactions, by the way he would try one stroke and then another – but he’d always been one damned fast learner. (Had he done research? The thought sent shivers up her spine.)
There was something luxurious about Fitz’s hand wrapped around her thigh and his tongue pressing rhythmically against her clit. Dimly, in the back of her mind where she wasn’t single-mindedly focused on the pleasure of his warm, dexterous, sinfully intent tongue, she thought she should maybe be more shy about wanting this the way she did, or that she should be more worried about what he’d think of the truly obscene noises coming out of her throat. But this was Fitz. Somehow, she knew that nothing she could do would chase him away now. The feeling as it curled through her morphed from pure pleasure to something sharper, more electric, as if he was winding up a spring inside her that was ready to burst.
One of his fingers slid inside her, where her muscles were just beginning to contract in the earliest waves of her cresting orgasm, and she let out a small bleat of protest. Fitz froze and then withdrew from her in an instant, and she whined at the loss of his mouth. That really wasn’t what she’d meant for him to do.
“Shit, I’m sorry, Jemma, was that –”
“No, Fitz –”
“I just thought you’d said, so I didn’t –”
“Fitz!” she exclaimed, leaning up on her elbows so she could meet his endearingly terrified gaze. “Shut up!” He snapped his mouth closed, and in the back of her head she made a note of his instinctive obedience. There might be something there for another bedroom escapade – on a different night. “I’m... that was fine, fantastic – or magnificent if you’d like, but I’m, um, quite close now, and I’d....” She let out a shaky breath and waved one hand weakly between them. “I’d really like to have sex. Penetrative sex. Now.”
Fitz’s mouth dropped open and he huffed out a chuckle, turning to scoot off the bed and pad quickly over to his bag for the condoms. “I – honestly, could you make that sound less sexy.”
Jemma groaned and dropped back onto the bed, settling her legs wide open on the mattress as she resisted touching herself while she waited for him to return. Abandoned, her hips shifted restlessly against the hotel blanket. “Ugh, Fitz, what would you rather have me say? ‘Put your cock in me now, you bad engineer, you?’” When there wasn’t an immediate, snarky answer, she blinked her eyes open to see Fitz standing at the end of the bed, condom packet in hand but apparently frozen in place as he stared at her. Her cheeks warmed as she realized that she must create quite the picture from his point of view, completely nude and legs bent wantonly up against the mattress.
“That’s one option,” he croaked, and she devolved into giggles yet again. As she caught her breath, she glimpsed him shoving off his boxers and tearing open the condom packet. At first, she was a little disappointed by how he’d turned away from the bed to put it on, but she quickly became distracted by her first ever sight of his bare bum. To her slight surprise, Fitz had a rather well formed arse, and a wicked smile ghosted across her face as she anticipated sinking her fingers into it shortly.
At long last, he turned around to crawl up her body on the bed, diving in immediately for long, heated kisses. Jemma wondered if he was trying to distract her from his nudity, or if he was distracting himself from nerves, but in the end it didn’t really matter. Her own already mild anxiety had faded as he’d worked his tongue against her and now she desperately wanted to remove the last amount of space between them entirely. His skin was hot where it slid against hers, and for the first time she could feel the evidence of his arousal pressing insistently against her hip. Fitz wanted her, and knowing that only made her want him more in return. The idea of taking hold of him, finding all the ways she could turn him into putty just with the right twist or pump, seemed infinitely appealing to her - but only for a second. The intimacy of sex itself was what she truly craved in that moment; more, even, than the orgasm to which she was so very close.
“I’m ready,” she whispered, peppering kisses up his jaw.
“You’re sure? ‘Cause –”
“Once you cross the event horizon,” Jemma said, meeting Fitz’s eyes, “you can’t go back.” Taking a moment to breathe him in, she traced the lines of his hair and his jaw, pressing their foreheads together. “I never want to go back.”
“Okay,” he breathed, staring down at her. “Yeah. Me neither.”
With a little adjusting, Fitz reached down to guide himself to her entrance and finally made the first push into her body. They both inhaled sharply, Jemma unable to keep her eyes from fluttering shut at the perfect stretch of him inside her, at the feeling of his bare chest expanding rapidly against her own. She’d been so near to the edge when he’d been working at her with his mouth that she didn’t even need any time to adjust, her body just as eager for him as her mind. Unaware of her thoughts, however, he kept that first stroke slow and steady until their hips met, both of them shivering at the sensation of finally being as physically intimately connected as their minds had been for years. As Fitz paused, either waiting for her reaction or keeping himself in check, Jemma took a moment to appreciate the way he felt inside her, his size and shape pressing oh-so-perfectly against all those sensitive places she never could quite reach on her own. There was a sense of the last puzzle piece being slotted into place, as if this very moment was where they'd always been heading, even if neither of them had known it for such a long time.
“Good?” His voice was a little strained, and another smile flitted across her lips at her best friend’s apparent attempt at self-restraint.
“Magnificent,” she whispered in reply, capturing his lips with her own and rocking her hips up against him. “Oh, please, Fitz....”
Groaning, he pressed in for ardent kisses of his own, his hips drawing back and thrusting forward instinctively, setting up a deliciously fast pace. Perhaps fast wasn’t quite the right word – strong and steady was more accurate, she thought, back arching as his cock stroked against her g-spot and caused her brain to shut down entirely. The sounds that came out of her mouth didn’t even sound like her anymore. Jemma couldn’t stop them even if she'd wanted to, the moans and breathless cries that fell from her lips at each of Fitz’s thrusts. One hand made its way to his arse and she dug her fingers into his tensing flesh, causing him to speed up just enough to make her vision fade at the edges again. She was unable to even catalogue the wonder of anatomy and biology that made this possible because she was so consumed by the feeling of it, by the sense of having flung herself over the edge with Fitz and being thrilled that they’d taken the leap.
“I’m,” she barely managed to whimper, “I’m t-there, Fitz, I... I –”
Letting out a low grunt, he clutched one hand roughly around her thigh to adjust the angle and sped up again, snapping his hips forward fast and hard. His cock slid rapidly in and out of her, stimulating all of her over-sensitive nerve-endings, and when the change pressed him more firmly against her clit that last burst of feeling sent her spiraling into her climax. Crying out, Jemma clamped her legs around Fitz’s arse and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pleasure radiating out from where he still worked inside her. She could barely breathe, barely think, consumed by the release that she felt like she’d been waiting years to reach.
Fitz moaned against her neck, the wash of his breath making her tremble. “Christ, oh Christ, that’s – I’m almost....” Letting out a groan, he pulled her leg up higher and she bucked upwards as the motion sent more pleasure soaring through her body. “Not gonna... last....”
“Let me help,” she said, voice hoarse but audible. Slowing slightly, he shifted as if he wanted to meet her gaze, but she moved first, pushing against his shoulder. He inhaled as he caught her meaning, paused, and then wormed his arms underneath her so that he could keep them together. The roll itself ended in Jemma sinking rather abruptly back onto him, the added pressure of her weight causing her to moan again at the feeling of him as deeply inside her as he could go.
As she leaned forward to continue Fitz’s rhythm, he stared up at her with such stunned adoration and arousal that she simply had to kiss him, heedless of the strain this position put on her thighs.
“Not sure,” he eked out, one hand squeezing at her hip and the other coming up to caress her breast, “this will help – me last....”
“Never mind that,” she breathed, nuzzling down at him and steadying herself with one hand next to his head, “just love me.” She heard herself say those words as if in a trance, and terror darted through her underneath the blissful daze of her climax. They hadn’t said that to each other yet, had always been so careful not to use that one word for fear of truly admitting what they could become or already were to each other.
But yet again if Fitz noticed he didn’t say, only stretching up to capture her mouth in a searing kiss, planting his feet on the bed so that he could meet her thrusts with his own. Unable to hold herself bent over like that anymore, Jemma straightened, reaching for his hand to steady herself as she began to move her hips in quick, sinuous movements. With the aftereffects of her own orgasm still coursing through her system, she felt almost drunk, twining their fingers together and her head lolling slightly to the side. Although she knew why he didn’t want it to end yet – too soon, always too soon – she couldn’t bear to pull back now, not when he was so close to losing himself in her.
His brows drew taut, lips bowing as he reached the precipice, fingers tightening in hers and flexing at her hip. Propping her free hand against his chest, she could feel the hammering of his heart and the expansion of his lungs, and marveled at how lucky they both were to have made it to this point, together. She sped up as much as her thighs would allow, breasts bouncing and drawing his eyes away from her face. Then he arched up, driving himself deeply into her as he came, his whole body tensing in the midst of his release. Dizzy with her own aftermath and their connection (literal, ephemeral, unbreakable), Jemma dropped forward to cover his face with messy kisses, catching his lips just as often as she missed.
At last, Fitz relaxed beneath her, panting heavily as he nuzzled up at her nose, desperately trying to catch his breath. “Fitz,” she murmured, over and over again, punctuating each repetition with a kiss, “Fitz, Fitz, Fitz.”
“Yeah?”
“I...” she trailed off, realizing that the smile on her face was wide enough to make her cheeks hurt. “I’m so happy,” she murmured at last, humming against his lips as his hand smoothed up the sweaty skin of her back.
Fitz pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, a lazy sort of affection hanging around his expression. Instead of replying, he stretched up to fit their mouths together, showing her yet again that he felt just the same.
A small ding sounded from where Jemma’s phone lay on the table, and she groaned, pressing her face against his stubbled neck. “Noooooo....”
“Would you really rather Mack find us like this?”
She leaned back to give Fitz a droll look. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one who’s going to have to hide that you’re walking funny for the rest of the night.”
His expression switched immediately to concern, both hands sliding down to her hips. “Are you –?”
“Walking funny in a good way,” she tried to assure him, but his eyes narrowed as she leaned in for another kiss. Before he could ask for further clarification, she rolled to the side of the bed, unable to totally stifle the little hiss their separation and the movement prompted. A few quick pecks at her phone revealed that Mack was, in fact, ready to take off, and she told him they’d be there soon.
“What is it?” She jumped a little at Fitz’s closeness behind her, and then sighed as he wrapped his arms around her waist.
Allowing him a few, tender kisses before she spoke, Jemma hugged her arms around his. “Looks like we won’t have time for a shower.”
He hummed, leaning his chin thoughtfully on her shoulder. “When we get home?” His voice was hopeful, and the idea of taking a long shower together later made her smile yet again.
“Yeah,” she answered softly. “When we’re home.” Jemma didn’t think she needed to say that, with Fitz, she was already home.